Monday, 8 September 2014

Guess what just came out? The Milk Round, an anthology of erotic stories about human milking.

I never expected to write lactation erotica. In fact, I didn't even know that this particular niche existed. When I saw the call for submissions, I had to write something. I was a breastfeeding counselor for 10 years, facilitating support groups, doing phone and online-support and home visits, so I had plenty of real-world expertise with breastfeeding to draw on. The story itself popped into my head almost fully formed -- a science fiction tale with shadowy government agents, a deadly biological weapon and a mad scientist as well as our lovely milk-making heroine. But could I make it erotic? You'll have to read the story and let me know.

If you download the Milk Round, here's what you'll get.

The first story, A Simple Procedure, is by the inimitable Vanessa de Sade, one my writing crushes, and it did not disappoint. It's written in her usual lush, unique style, a fairy-tale within a frame story within another frame story. A voluptuous peasant girl and an icy queen have a lesbian encounter, the king joins in, there's a scary encounter with a shape-shifting wolf, and lots and lots of delicious milk.

Next is my story, Operation White Gold! Instead of a synopsis, I'll give you an excerpt. At this point in the story, Brigit has just been informed that an enemy country is planning to use a biological weapon to wipe out the U.S. population. The only hope is to manufacture an antiserum from her milk.

Brigit tried to free her hand from his
grip, but he held her firmly. She said, “It’s true that I’m breastfeeding, but
so are lots of other mothers. What makes you think that I have this, this gene,
or whatever it is.” The mention of milk brought Brigit’s attention back to her
throbbing breasts. The swollen things strained against the fabric of her blouse
as she spoke, her buttons gaping to expose her lacy bra and cleavage.

“The CDC requisitioned blood tests from
all the women in the United States who have been pregnant in the past year.
Yours was one of the tiny minority to show homozygosity for this particular
mutation.”

Brigit jumped to her feet and clenched
her fists. “How dare you analyse my blood test without my permission! That can not be legal.”

Dr. Fleiss responded softly. “In a
situation like this, everything becomes legal. Our intelligence has shown that
the enemy country is manufacturing a huge supply of the weapon. We are
absolutely certain that they plan to use it within the next three months. Our
job is to manufacture enough of the antiserum, within that same time frame, to
protect the entire population of the United States. If that can’t be done, then
some hard decisions are ahead.”

Brigit sank back into her chair. “You
need my milk.”

“We do. We need all the milk you can
provide and more. We need it desperately. The lives of your fellow citizens depend
upon it.”

The plane’s engines roared to life and
the two agents sat and buckled their seatbelts. As they began to taxi down the
runway, Dr. Fleiss said, “I’m glad to know you’re committed, because your job won’t
be easy.”

Next is The Trickle-Down Effect, by Jean Roberta. Funnily enough, I was just introduced to Jean a few days ago when I read an unpublished story of hers that I absolutely loved. Her offering for the Milk Round makes quite a contrast with the over-the-top style of the first two stories. The Trickle-Down Effect is a sweet and very realistic account of the life of a couple with a new baby. It's gently sensual and touching.

Then there's Welcome Home, by Maxine Hooper, and Hot Milk by V.C. Both are about couples getting the most enjoyment possible out of the woman's milk.

That's it! I hope you'll read this anthology and let me know how you like it. But maybe not if lactation turns you off. I know it's not for everybody.

Friday, 18 July 2014

I just discovered thatSmut by
the Sea, vol 3is available
on Amazon! It includes my story, "Uncharted Waters." It's about Lily,
who finds herself almost uncontrollably attracted to her husband's best friend.
Here's an excerpt:

“Hey Marshall, check that
out,” Brian said. He pointed at a topless girl who had just emerged from the
waves. She stood, completely unselfconscious, squeezing the water out of her
long, blond hair.

Marshall looked impressed.
“You don’t see that in the States. What about you, Lily? Do you ever go topless
on the beach?”

She giggled but didn’t
reply. She was getting hornier and wetter by the minute. After an hour or so,
Lily’s teeth started to chatter, in spite of the warmth of Brian and Marshall’s
bodies. They walked back to the apartment, Lily with the beach blanket wrapped
around her.

Once inside, Marshall
yawned and said, “The jetlag is killing me. See you all in the morning.” He
went to the guest room, closing the door behind him.

As soon as the latch clicked,
Lily threw herself into Brian’s arms and kissed him. She pushed him across the
living room until they reached the couch. She made him sit. She climbed onto
Brian’s lap, facing him, and unbuttoned his jeans.

“What are you doing?” He
said. “Marshall might see.”

“No he won’t,” she said.
“He’s wiped out. Jetlag. He’s probably asleep already.” She unzipped Brian's
pants and kissed him hard as she snaked her hand down into his underwear. He
was soft.

“What’s gotten into you?”
Brian said, raining little kisses on her nose, her cheeks, her eyelids.

“What’s with you?” She
shot back. “We spent the last hour down at the beach, watching all the
half-naked hotties, and you’re as limp as an overcooked noodle.”

He pushed her shirt up and
kissed her breasts, sliding his lips along the lacy edge of her bra. He said.
“I was just pointing them out for Marshall, trying to show him there’s plenty
of fish in the sea. Those girls don’t do that much for me. Not like you.” He
peeled the lace down so her nipples peeked out, and squeezed her breasts
together. He licked the cleavage, looking up into her eyes. “See, I’m getting
hard now.”

It was true. Lily pulled
down his jeans and the elastic of his boxers, and his cock jumped up. She
squirmed off his lap, down onto the floor, knelt between his legs, and licked
the head of it a few times. Then she pulled Brian to the floor and made him lie
between the couch and coffee table. She wiggled out of her skirt and underwear
and knelt over him with her hands on his shoulders. The tip of his cock touched
her pussy. She rolled her hips so it slid back and forth between her lips, and
then lowered herself onto it. She was so wet it didn’t need any help slipping
inside. She arched her back and rocked her hips, grinding her clit against his
pubic bone.

Brian squeezed her breasts, as Lily closed her eyes and
imagined that his hands were Marshall’s hands. She pictured Marshall standing
behind her, imagined herself leaning back against his thighs as she rode Brian’s
cock. In her fantasy, Marshall’s erection was right behind her head. Her hair
rubbed against it as she fucked Brian. She imagined Marshall kneading her
breasts as he looked down at the two of them ...

I've also downloaded my copy of the book, and I'll post a review here when I finish
reading.

Friday, 11 July 2014

You know how 'literary erotica' stories are usually stilted, confusing, and not-at-all sexy? Well, I've been devouring stories by an author who's the opposite of that. Vanessa de Sade writes stories that appeal to my personal triggers -- exhibitionism, sexually aggressive women, one-night-stands. Her voice is lush, lyrical and startling.

It occurred to me that, amid all the talk about the transgressive, her stories violate some real taboos of erotica. That is, they often deal with the taboo emotions of sadness, loneliness, and loss. It's easy to simplify the idea of taboo into a ban on content (underage, bestiality), but the unacceptability of certain emotions is more subtle. I've been reading as much erotica as possible lately, and it looks to me like fear is fine, humiliation is acceptable, anger is okay, lust is obviously encouraged, and anxiety is common. But sadness is not allowed.

Vanessa's stories take on loss in a visceral way. And yet they manage to be very, very hot. You should check them out.

Friday, 6 June 2014

Fun in the Sun, an erotic anthology that features one of my stories, is available for purchase! My story is called "From the Beach to the Prison Bus." It's about two friends, Amy and June, who are vacationing in Galveston, TX. They decide to have a little girls gone wild moment, by flashing their breasts at the men on the prison bus. Here's an excerpt:

June unbuckled her seatbelt and pushed herself up, so that her naked upper body was outside the car. She whooped. A few moments later, she sat back down, flushed and glowing with excitement. “Fucking hell, that was fun.” She rolled the window back up.

Amy was shaking so hard she could barely drive. “I cannot believe you did that. What, the fuck, is wrong with you.”

“You should do it, too. You’ve got much nicer tits than I do. Here, I’ll hold the steering wheel.” June fastened her bikini behind her back and flipped her wavy, wet hair forward so she could tie the strings around her neck.

Amy didn’t answer. She knew June was right about her fantastic breasts. They were 38DD, but high and firm, with small, pale pink areolas. Her nipples were exquisitely sensitive, and even though she didn’t need to make them seem any bigger, she had to wear a padded bra to keep from telegraphing every time she got cold or excited. But in spite of her perfect boobs, Amy never felt sexy. She was too ashamed of her thick thighs and big, round backside.

She almost never felt good in clothes. It was hard to find pants in her size, because if they fit through the hips, they were huge in the waist. And in a swimsuit, she felt ridiculously, obscenely exposed, unlike the skinny girls who could wear a thong and a crocheted-hanky top and still look decent.

She was struck by a sudden realization. The guys on this prison bus, she thought, are not going to judge me. If I flash them out the window, they won’t even see my big fat ass. A cold certainty washed over her as she realized she was going to do it.

“Take the wheel,” she said. Before she could change her mind, Amy ripped off her t-shirt and unhooked her bra. The hot Texas wind blasted her face as she rolled down the window. She let the car drift into the slow lane and watched the bus approaching in her rear-view mirror. When it got close, Amy eased her foot off the gas pedal and, as the white bus passed her car, she stood up, grasping the edge of the car door and pushing herself halfway out the driver’s side window.

As the white bus sped by, the men’s face were a blur of wide-open mouths and eyes. Then they were gone.

Amy sat back down, still topless, and took the steering wheel back from June. She had never felt so beautiful, so desired. Her pussy tingled and pulsed with every bump in the road. “Oh, my god, that was the most fun thing I’ve ever done,” she said.

Just a bit of harmless fun, right? But things get much more serious when Amy pulls into a truck stop for fuel and the young women find that the prison bus has broken down and the inmates want to meet them in person. I hope you'll check it out! And, if you do, leave a review or comment here and tell me what you thought of it.

Monday, 12 May 2014

I started to answer this, and had to delete my reply. I can't talk about what I'm working on until it's done! I just can't. Instead, how about I tell you about some stories I've recently had accepted for publication? A woman who goes to a performance art piece and finds herself 'exhibited' as part of the artwork. A young medical resident learns a new, hands-on sexual therapy and uses it on a patient for the first time, as his mentor and fellow residents watch. A woman finds a man lying beside the road, beaten, hypothermic, and near death; she rescues him, and now the people who tried to kill him are after them both. Two young women are getting a little wild on vacation, when they decide to flash the prison bus; the next thing they know, they're on the bus, entertaining the convicts in person.

Okay, some of those are conditional acceptances (publisher gets final approval of the anthology). But ALL of them are supposed to come out before the end of the year. I'm stoked.

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

The most successful erotica is erotic romance, and I just can't seem to write erotic romance! I don't like alpha males -- hate them in real life, despise them in fiction. I'm not very good at happy endings, either. For me, the sexiest stories are the ones that can't last, like a rock star passing through town on his way to the next gig, because the sweet memory is never going to be spoiled by the conflicts, hurts and baggage that inevitably happen in a long-term relationship. Looking at the stories I've had published or accepted, 4 have a happy-ever-after and 5 don't. However, most of my stories with happy endings are about resolving a conflict in an existing long-term relationship. They're not the Cinderella-meets-Prince-Charming tales that every girl loves.

My erotica has a strong thread of exhibitionism/voyeurism and outrageous, hyper-real fantasies. I try to write well enough, and with enough internal consistency, that readers will willingly suspend their disbelief.

Why do I write what I do?

An interest in sexuality has been a thread throughout my life, from when I worked as a striptease artist and topless dancer, to my involvement with women's sexuality as a midwife and breastfeeding counselor. In between, I worked in several traditionally male fields, including the military. This gave me a real appreciation and admiration for men, and, I think, a much better understanding and sympathy for male sexuality than most women have. Erotica is the genre where all this experience and these interests comes together.

How does my writing process work?

I love writing to calls for submission. They've been my biggest source of inspiration. I'll read a call, mull it over for a few days, and suddenly a scene or plot will flash into my head. For example, I recently saw a call for an anthology of lactation erotica. I'd never considered that genre before, but I do have plenty of real-world expertise, since I spent several years as a volunteer breastfeeding counselor. Bam! I was smacked by an outrageous plot involving the NSA, biological weapons, and erotic milking. I wrote a draft that evening, and can't wait to edit and submit it.Some of my stories come from a mixture of my fantasies, my real experiences, and stories people have told me that stuck with me.Next week I'm passing the baton to Corvidae, so please check out her blog for her answers to these questions. I'll be very interested to read them! Here's her bio:Corvidae is a biologist, a writer, and a near-lifelong fan of scandalous storytelling. She is an active proponent of sex-positivity, polyamory, and BDSM, both in her work and in real life. When not writing, what spare time she has is usually filled with yoga, dancing, and table-top gaming. Her first published work can be found in the Big Book of Submissioncoming out this July from Cleis Press.Last week, Huck Pilgrim posted his answers. Looks like he has a new book coming out from Excessica Press! Here's a little info about Huck:Huck Pilgrim is the pseudonym of a minor author, who craves readers, and doesn’t mind working hard on his books. He is a father and a husband, enjoys his family, writing, and watching movies.And Elliot DeLock is also scheduled to post today. Elliot was the winner of the contest for Valentine's Day, the first anthology I was published in (I got an honorable mention). Elliot was born in small town Australia and raised in big city Asia. He works in an office by day and writes by night. He’s interested in fantasy, horror, feminism, history, and how sexuality connects them all together. He’s battled wildfires and insomnia to be here and is grateful to have the chance to share his stories.

Tuesday, 6 May 2014

My friend Huck Pilgrim posted the answers to five questions to his blog today. They are:

What are you working on?

How does your erotica differ from other erotica?

Why do you write erotica?

How does your writing process work?

Huck is, hands down, the best erotica writer I know of. His kinks are not my kinks. His stories feature humiliation, dubious consent, and some nasty characters. But, jesus, can he ever write. You can't look away, even if you want to. Check out his stories. If you dare.

I'll be posting my own answers to the same questions in a few days, along with some links to other erotica writers that I like, so check back for that.

Friday, 18 April 2014

Hi Everyone,
My friend Spencer has a book coming out today. Here's a post from him about the writing process.

Congratulations, Spencer!
Sybil

A Musing Story?

As writers we are often asked where our ideas come
from. I'm working on a fanciful answer to add to the mystery of Spencer Dryden
that might make me the darling of bloggers everywhere. I like the notion of the
muse riding on a purple unicorn blasting me with pixie dust. I'm going with the
muse idea because there is no rational explanation for my novella,
"Bliss". It's very different from everything I have written so far in
my short career. Most of my stuff is erotic short stories laced with humor.
"Bliss" is dark, at least for me.

"Bliss" is the story of a woman's struggle
with sexual shame. The story takes place in the mythical town of Bliss, New
Hampshire, where an outwardly successful woman, Christina McArdle, is facing a
big interior struggle. So a guy who normally writes male POV erotic fiction
with plenty of humor starts writing a dark tale of suspense from a female POV.
Where did that come from?

I don't have a good answer. In fact, "Bliss"
jumped ahead in line of another of my writing themes, a madcap science
fiction/fantasy. I'm the guy behind "The Gueschtunkina Ray Gun"—one
blast from this weapon puts a woman into a high state of sexual arousal. It's
fun and funny and I hope you'll be reading the series one day. But Christina's
story wouldn't go away so I just kept writing.

Christina is in a classic shame bind. She has
unaddressed psychic trauma from an assault as a girl. The repressed incident
has manifest itself as problems with intimacy as an adult. Her husband has lost
sexual interest in her and she doesn't have the tools to address the problem.
She goes to a shrink. Well that's not enough fun, so the story heaps on dark
undertones of religious repression via a misogynistic pastor on a sexual purity
kick among the men of his flock. Sinister forces come into play. Christina's
challenge is that she must cast out the demons of her past and present or lose
the love of her life.

I tested the story on my writers group (ERWA a fine
place to go) and was amazed at the way the story resonated with women readers.
I had set out to write an erotic romance but the story had enough twists and
turns that it is better described as romantic suspense. It took me a couple of
rejections to figure that out. I sent it to Breathless Press and bingo, the
great surprise of my early writing career. I still don't know where it came
from so let's just go with the muse thing.

I don't have enough lines on my CV to be dispensing
writing advice. I can say what I did. I wrote the story I wanted to hear, then
figured out what to do with it.

I am very anxious to hear reader's reaction to the
story. I hope you'll not only read it but take a moment to send me your
thoughts. I need to get some feedback to the muse, maybe she's got another tale
for me.

In the prosperous community of Bliss, New Hampshire, in 1995, Christina McArdle is living a feminist dream. In short order she has become the first female partner of the venerable, male dominated CPA firm of Driscol, Ryan, Jensen and Palmer. The honor followed by her selection as the first female member of the prestigious Maplewood Country Club.

But Christina fears that her career success has come at a terrible price. Her husband, Ben, has lost sexual interest in her. Unable to ignite his passion for her and desperate for understanding of her own inhibitions, Christina turns to Dr. Rachel Morissey, a sex therapist, who helps Christina uncover dark secrets from her past.

Christina's path to recovery is blocked by a misogynistic pastor who traps her and many other women of her church in a shame bind that serves his purulent interests.

Her journey to freedom requires Christina to break bonds from past and present or lose the love of her life.

Saturday, 4 January 2014

Remember how at the beginning of December, I recommended everyone check out the debate on Cato Unbound regarding legalization of prostitution? Well, December is over and, I presume, so is the debate. Ms McNeill, who wrote supporting decriminalization, did not disappoint. Her arguments were articulate, logical, and backed up by data.

The prohibitionists, on the other hand, were clueless, illogical, and generally overwrought. Dianne Post, in particular, relied on unsupported, outlandish claims ("prostitution is slavery!"), exaggerations, and discredited data to make her points. The comments sections on her essays are awesome though. The commenters didn't let any of her crap go unchallenged. If you like a good debate, and especially if you enjoy seeing hysterical, irrational ideologues taking a smack-down, the whole thing is worth reading.

However, the very best part of the whole debate is a comment by Franz. While the essayists and the other commenters stuck to theoretical arguments, Franz made the whole thing real with a very personal tribute to escorts. His comment began,

"Dear Ms. Post, if you argue that prostitution reinforces the subordination of women, I like to argue that, while sex workers are being paid for rendering services that focus on simple sexual gratification, they really reinforce a complex of human values, such as mutual understanding, consideration, kindness, affection, and even friendship. In fact, generally they are quite extraordinary human beings.

For instance:

Tonight, my escort, a migrant 36-year old woman, called me unexpectedly asking how I was doing. Since some time I am housebound and bedridden. For about 20 minutes we had a heartwarming, witty conversation that lifted my spirit, and it ended with her offering spontaneously to come by tomorrow (New Year's Eve) and cook for me. I protested but no discussion possible. So I subordinated/surrendered/accepted. A few hours later she texted me this: "I know you feel lonely don't worry we will talk tomorrow dear don't worry, #love#kisses#hugs". Note: she's not coming for a business appointment but to cook. It would be an insult if I offered to pay her something, even for the groceries she's going to bring."

He went on from there to a lovely, impassioned defense of compassionate prostitution that brought tears to my eyes.

It took me back to when I was a topless dancer and I experienced, so clearly, that many men were not just looking for sexual stimulation. They were also in need of companionship, a listening ear, a woman to sit and share a drink and company. Men showed me pictures of their kids, and talked about their loneliness since their wives divorced them. Or they told me about their jobs, their plans and aspirations. Some men wanted to just joke and laugh together.

I cared about my customers, their stories and their lives. Yes, they tipped me for lap dances, and plenty of people would like you to believe that this negates a real, human connection. Well, it doesn't. Psychotherapists get paid. Physiotherapists get paid. Personal trainers get paid. Midwives get paid. Anyone who provides a valuable personal service deserves to be paid for their work, yet they can and do still care deeply about their clients.

I learned that, for men, sex and nurturing are often connected. The sex prohibitionists don't want this truth exposed. They push the idea that male sexuality is always violent, destructive and exploitive. Can it be destructive? Yes. Is this typical? No.